Under the Mistletoe
by Les-Gateaux
Summary: Dragging a resisting buchou under the mistletoe is rather difficult, as Fuji finds out at Atobe's Christmas party. FujiTez, AtoJi, and all the normal pairings.
1. The Party

Disclaimer: (As said by…let's see…Kaidoh.) Sssssss. Tenipuri is not Song's.

Bachelorette Gone Wrong and Seducing a Tensai are currently on hiatus for the rest of December, unless the plot bunnies start gnawing away at me again. This is due to the Christmas fic I'm working on, along with a writing contest that ends in January. The bunnies have been currently satiated due to the writing of this crack!humor Christmas fic. Yay. FujiTezu, by the way.

Under the Mistletoe

Chapter One – In Which Atobe Throws a Party, and Invites Everyone in the General Vicinity to Show Off His Wealth (and this title's too damn long.)

It was with a sense of foreboding that Seigaku's buchou viewed his team's tensai approaching with the usual deceptively innocent smile on his face. Tezuka was sorely tempted to run, except that he never ran from anything. Then again, every rule had an exception…

"Tezuka," Fuji practically caroled. He was holding a handful of envelopes, each adorned with a name written in what was probably liquid gold. Shifting the letters around, he selected one with the name 'Tezuka Kunimitsu' and brandished it. "Here you go."

Tezuka took the envelope doubtfully. "This is…?"

"An invitation for a Christmas party, of course. What else?" The tensai sidled a step closer. "Open it, open it!"

Having never seen Fuji so excited, the captain was a bit…terrified. He tossed the shorter boy another wary glance before carefully unsealing the top and pulling out a sheet of gold-embossed paper. Just by seeing all the gold made him realize who'd sent the letter, even before he caught sight of the signature at the bottom.

'_You are one of the lucky few chosen to be graced with ore-sama's divine presence on December the Twenty-Fifth. Should you choose not to come, ore-sama will send Kabaji after you. It is probably in your best interest to arrive. Be punctual so that ore-sama can show up fashionably late. Being late for one's own party is the newest style, after all. Sincerely, the epitome of perfection, Atobe Keigo. And naturally, bring gifts for everyone (there are twenty people coming). Or, if you can't afford it, just bring a gift for ore-sama.' _

Below that, the time was listed, along with a few basic directions. Not that anyone could miss the Atobe mansion; it practically towered over Japan. (A bit of an exaggeration…not much of one, though, considering the size of Atobe's personal _cottage_.)

Tezuka's eyes slid over to Fuji. "No."

"Oh, you'll go, or Atobe'll order Kabaji after you."

The captain raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I'll leave the city."

"So Atobe will send Kabaji after you on his personal jet. You can't hide, Tezuka. Besides, it'll be fun. Come on."

That was what he was scared of. Fuji's idea of fun was nothing like a normal person's idea of fun.

Tezuka watched as Fuji walked over to the bench, leaning down by Ryoma. The freshman took the envelope in two fingers and tossed it with rather good aim at the nearest trash can.

"That wasn't very nice," the tensai remarked.

"I'm busy over Christmas." Seigaku's future pillar leaned back and took another long swig of Ponta.

Fuji's smile only widened. "Well, you'll just have to cancel your plans, then."

The Ponta was placed fastidiously on the center of the bench as golden eyes narrowed. "You seem rather keen on helping Atobe."

"Well, yes. I think it's a great idea to celebrate the Christmas spirit and all that." Actually, Fuji had been helping Atobe set up the decorations, especially the small sprigs of mistletoe. Technically, neither of them had bothered setting anything up; Fuji gave the suggestions, Atobe gave the orders, and the maids and butlers ran around draping the fake snow over everything.

All in all, the mansion looked beautiful when they were done with it. The only problem was the fake snow, which tended to be rather sticky when touched. The diva had bitched for a while after getting a single strand of his immaculate hair caught in the stuff. His good mood was magically restored when he discovered his parents' supply of newly ordered wine.

Fuji lifted up Ryoma's envelope from the ground and handed it back to him. "If you don't go," he said, quite amiably, "it's perfectly all right. You'll just have to watch out for Inui juice in your Ponta can for the rest of the year."

The freshman grabbed the envelope with a barely audible growl.

_Perfect. Two down and two to go._ Fuji's cerulean eyes scanned the courts until he saw the redhead and his partner laughing in the corner. He walked briskly towards them.

Kikumaru glanced up. "Fuji, nya! What are those?" he asked, gesturing at the envelopes.

"Invitations. Here, Eiji. You too, Oishi."

"Oh…thanks." Seigaku's fukubuchou seemed fairly surprised.

"Don't thank me. It's Atobe's party." The tensai moved away cheerfully. "See you there!"

Kikumaru scanned the contents. "Ah, just like Atobe. Well, at any rate, Fuji seems to be in a good mood."

Oishi twitched. "Is that really such a good thing?"

"Fuji-senpai! Fuji-senpai!" Horio squealed, in his loud, nasal voice. "I heard you were giving out invitations to a Christmas party!" He gazed, perplexed, at the tensai's empty hands. "…ara? Where's mine?"

"You weren't invited," Ryoma muttered, passing by with his racket tucked under one arm.

Fuji glared at him. "You're so tactless. Actually, it was a very selective party, so not all the Regulars were chosen to go, anyways. Gomen, Horio."

Ryoma snickered.

"Echizen," Fuji warned, "I can always make sure you and Kabaji end up under the mistletoe somehow."

That shut the freshman up. The tensai smiled. "Mada mada dane," he imitated.

* * *

"So?" Atobe asked, after a long, pregnant pause.

Fuji glanced up from where he was artistically arranging a few glass icicles on the banister. "So what?"

The diva tossed his dark hair. "The results, of course."

"Oh." The tensai forced another icicle onto the railing. It quivered, then fell, sending glass shards all over the floor. Fuji winced. "They're all coming, I think."

Atobe settled back into the armchair. "Well, it would be rather moronic to miss ore-sama's party."

Fuji hopped over the glass shards. "Yes, it would." He paused. "You might want to get someone to clean that up. It's a health hazard."

"Whose fault is that?" Atobe muttered, but nevertheless summoned one of his maids, who promptly cleared up the mess, then started trying to flirt with both boys. She was promptly shooed out.

The tensai glanced around the lobby, where a giant crystal statue of an angel was revolving. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you perhaps overdoing it a bit?"

"I don't think so. Why? Isn't having a sixteen-foot-tall crystal statue normal?"

"I wouldn't know," Fuji replied. "I've never been called normal in my life."

Atobe smirked. "Are you staying here until the party starts?"

"I guess." The blue-eyed boy perched himself on a sofa. "Let's see. Refreshments?"

"Three refrigerators full."

Fuji checked that off his list. "Gifts?"

"One for each of twenty people."

Another check. "Music?"

"A full orchestra's waiting in the basement."

The tensai gave Atobe a very strange look before checking that off the paper. "Games?"

"What could possibly be more fun that Hide and Go Kiss?"

"Good point." Fuji pictured Tezuka and grinned. Evilly. "Hmm…decorations, check…mistletoe, check…"

"Speaking of which, do you want your present now?" Atobe purred.

The tensai sighed. "Atobe…must you flirt with everyone?"

"I wasn't aware I was flirting with you."

"Your arms," Fuji pointed out, "are around my waist, even though you were sitting ten feet away from me a moment ago."

The diva considered that. "So?"

His companion sighed. "Never mind. Anyways, perhaps it'd be best to wait for everyone else before handing out gifts and such."

"We have two hours. What is there to do?"

Fuji smirked. "Sample the wine, perhaps?"

* * *

The doorbell rang. Loudly. Ohtori placed a restraining hand on Shishido's arm. "You probably shouldn't keep pressing it."

The sound of running feet came from inside before the door was pulled open, revealing Atobe in all his glory. He was practically shining. Of course, that was most likely from the lights, which were rather bright, but still…

"Come in," the diva said, moving aside. He scanned them critically. They were both rich enough to afford twenty _nice _gifts – everyone from Hyotei was – and judging by the size of the bags they were carrying, they'd bought that number. "Did you see anyone else?"

"Yeah. Oshitari and Gakuto were stuck in a snowbank – making out, I think - but they should be here soon. I saw a few Seigaku freaks, too."

Fuji stood. "Freaks?"

Ohtori blushed. "He didn't mean that. He meant, um, members. Yes, Seigaku members."

"Convincing, Ohtori." Atobe glanced towards the window and visibly brightened (which meant he was just about blinding to the naked eye). The door was yanked open again, despite the butler already hurrying towards it. "Tezuka-san. Such a pleasure."

Tezuka maintained his cold expression. "Same."

Fuji's eyes were scanning the ceiling. _Let's see…the closest one is next to the closet…so if I 'accidentally' smash into him, we should both go flying in that general direction…_He smiled, only to notice that Tezuka was moving. _No! How am I supposed to get you under the mistletoe if you keep moving?_

His thoughts were interrupted by a blonde whirlwind that tackled him and sent him soaring in the direction of the couch. "_Fuji-san!"_

"…Akutagawa-kun…"

Jirou was beaming, despite the fact that his nose was a bright red due to the cold. "Hi, Fuji-saaaaaaaaaa…." His voice trailed off as he sank into one of Atobe's extremely soft couches. Two seconds later, he was asleep.

"I see you managed to find your way here," Atobe remarked sarcastically to the next batch of arrivals, which included Oshitari and Gakuto. They both glared at their captain but made no comment. Fuji rushed over, embracing Yuuta, who made a few squeaky protesting noises.

And then the tensai paused. "Yuuta…I don't think Atobe allows animals in his house." He gestured to Mizuki.

The St. Rudolph strategist growled. "Why you…"

"Just kidding." Fuji laughed. "Actually, it's _wonderful_ to see you. Mituli-san, right?"

"Mi. Zu. Ki."

"Right, what I said. I have the _perfect_ gift for you."

Mizuki twitched, and wondered whether he should run whether he still had his head.

More people drifted in. Oshitari frowned. "Whatever happened to you being 'fashionably late', Atobe? It seems you were here before everyone else."

"That went out of fashion six hours ago," Atobe replied coolly. "Now it's fashionable to being there early. Obviously. You really need to keep up with the latest trends." He counted the people in the room. "Ah, perfect. Minna!"

Heads turned towards the diva. Downstairs, the strains of the second movement of the Bruch concerto began. Atobe raised an eyebrow. _How is that Christmas music? All right, the conductor's fired._ "First, let's have the gift exchange. After that, we'll play a few…games. And, at midnight, there's a special surprise for you all." He smirked.

"Can I give out my gifts first?" Fuji called, holding out a box that was visibly twitching.

Atobe swallowed. Hard. "…sure."

"Mituli-san," the tensai called sweetly.

Mizuki backed away. "Um, that's ok, you really didn't have to get me anything…"

"Don't be stupid. Of course I have to give something to the manager who took such good care of Yuuta." Fuji's eyes opened ever so slightly.

The box in his hand let out something suspiciously like a roar. Kikumaru clung to Oishi. "Oishi, nya…I'm scared…"

"Don't worry, Mituli-san. It's not dangerous." Fuji tossed the box at Mizuki's head. "Here, catch."

The manager grabbed the box reflexively. It quivered in his hand.

"Go on, open it," the tensai urged.

Mizuki gently began peeling away the wrapping paper. Inside was a relatively plain box, with air holes poked in the top.

That didn't look good.

The thing in the box let out another growl.

Mizuki was tempted to hyperventilate, but he refused to let Fuji have the pleasure of seeing him freak out. He pulled open the top of the box.

And was promptly thrown to the ground by a giant, snarling puppy, who seemed to be aiming for his throat.

"Ah…I trained Mizuki no Baka quite well, it seems."

Yuuta blinked. "…Mizuki no Baka?"

"Yes, the puppy's name, of course."

"Of course." Yuuta leaned down, trying to pry the puppy off his boyfriend, who was making funny little whimpering sounds.

Once the puppy was removed, the younger Fuji gaped. "Mizuki, your face…it's covered with red blotches."

"I'm allergic!" the St. Rudolph strategist howled.

Fuji hummed, quite innocently, and twiddled his fingers.

"You knew, didn't you, aniki?" Yuuta accused.

"Me? Of course not. I thought Mituli-san would appreciate having a puppy for Christmas. How was I supposed to know about the large hives he'd get when coming in contact with this _particular_ breed of dog? Which, I might add, is only available around once every three years, due to its rarity, and has to be imported from Azerbaijan…"

Mizuki ran out of the mansion, Yuuta following, and the puppy racing after them both.

Fuji watched them leave, then turned, shrugging. "Saa, how strange. He didn't appreciate my present." The usual smile spread across his face. "Well, then, who wants their gift next?"

It really was amazing how quickly a group of twenty people could disperse.

* * *

Yep. Fear the crack. And utter stupidity. Anyways, I'm actually grounded right now due to..er...a certain English grade (people who read Bachelorette will know why I got such a bad grade), so...yeah. Updates won't be too fast. Sorry.

And you see that little blue box in the corner? I'm sure you're curious about what it is. Why don't you click it and see? XD


	2. Let the Games Begin

Disclaimer: (As said by a Christmas tree, just because this fic is based around the Xmas theme) I am a Christmas tree. I can't talk.

Disclaimer 2: (As said by a _talking_ Christmas tree) Tenipuri is not Song's.

Here's a list of people at Atobe the Beautiful's party (just watched episode 113. SQUEEE!):

Atobe the Beautiful

Fuji the Sadist

Tezuka-who-is-unaware-of-the-Tensai's-evil-plans

Ryoma the Snarky (who may not actually be paired with anyone in here. The horror! However, the plot dinosaurs have been rampaging over my brain, so I'm not sure I even have one anymore…)

Oshitari the Tensai Version 2

Gakuto the Bendable (which I'm sure Oshitari likes)

Ohtori-who-is-scared-of-Frogs

Shishido the Drama Queen

Kabaji the…Thing

Jirou the Narcileptic

Hiyoshi of the Mushroom Head

Kirihara-who-hurt-my-precious-Fuji-and-shall-DIE (until I watch the match between him and Fuji and fall totally in love with him, as I know I will)

Sanada the Stoic

Yukimura-who-is-also-Beautiful (Atobe, you've got competition!)

Yanagi-who-has-not-been-seen-by-me-yet

Saeki the Fuji Stealer

Kikumaru and Oishi (Who were forgotten until Risa-chan reminded me. Sorry.)

Yuuta-who-is-not-Fuji's-little-brother-and-who-has-returned-to-the-party

And, of course, Mizuki the Blotched (accompanied by a tube of allergy cream.)

**Under the Mistletoe**

Chapter Two – In Which Gifts are Given Out, and Tezuka is in Annoyed, due to Fuji asking for Saeki's Help (and the title's too damn long again)

People seemed to be relaxing.

Nothing too bad had happened so far, other than Mizuki's explosion into red spots. Fuji's presents seemed to be fairly normal – a few tennis balls here, a horrendously ugly sweater there, a giant smiley face sticker – all the usual gifts given at a Christmas party.

That is, until…

"Kirihara-kun," Fuji purred, moving a step closer to the other boy.

It was very possible that Kirihara made a noise between a squeak and a growl.

That was before he noticed Fuji wasn't holding anything. He breathed a sigh of relief. If the item was small enough to fit in the tensai's pocket, it couldn't be anything _too_ bad, right?

…unless, of course, it was tiny grenade which would blow him, and only him, to smithereens.

He was now huddling in a corner before remembering that Kirihara Akaya never hid from anything, whether it be a frog or Armageddon or the Apocalypse or…worst of all…a sadistic bastard hiding under a smiling face. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself.

"Look up, Kirihara-kun," Fuji said sweetly.

The boy caught a glimpse of dark green leaves and white berries before he was pressed against the wall, Fuji's tongue in his mouth and his body being thoroughly explored by those slender white hands…

…and Fuji may have been fucking annoying at times, but he was a damn good kisser.

Kirihara found himself leaning upwards into the older boy's embrace, and it was with great reluctance that he let the tensai pull away. "Merry Christmas," Fuji whispered into his ear.

The junior found himself thinking that perhaps the tensai wasn't so bad after all.

That is, until Fuji remarked, "I don't think Yanagi-san's very pleased right now."

Kirihara could physically feel the _glare_ emanating from closed eyes (if that was even possible). And while Fuji was terrifying, a mad Yanagi was just about scary as Hell.

…which meant a bit less frightening than Fuji, but only a bit.

Rikkaidai's ace judged the distance to the door. Unfortunately, his data-based boyfriend had anticipated his means of escape, and the doors slammed shut. Loudly. Other people who'd been exchanging gifts stopped to watch the drama enfolding in that particular corner.

Tezuka glared at Fuji, who shrugged nonchalantly. Kirihara was just practice. After all, Fuji needed to be prepared for his captain. Tezuka deserved only the best.

While Kirihara was busy being attacked by Yanagi, the tensai sidled over to Atobe. "Atobe-san…would you like your present now?"

"Why, thank you." The diva smiled up at Fuji. "Do I get a kiss too?"

Not exactly sure whether the narcissist was joking or serious, Fuji pressed a chaste kiss on Atobe's cheek. "Happy?"

"Not really, but it'll do."

The sadist pulled out something from his pocket. "I figured that you'd already bought everything money could buy, so here." He handed over a small box.

Atobe lifted the cover and gave his companion a rather surprised glance. "It's empty."

"Yes. It contains my undying love," was the sarcastic reply.

"No, really."

"You're not satisfied with just my love? How cruel. After all that time we spent together getting stuck in fake snow, too…" Seeing that the diva was visibly twitching, Fuji tried quelling his snarky comments (he was hanging around Ryoma too much). "Just kidding. There's a note." He wandered away quickly.

Atobe lifted out the paper from the bottom of the box and read it. _Those who sleep are just waiting to be kissed…look towards the ceiling, or your chance will be missed…I've learned that I cannot write poetry…Sincerely, the Tensai, Fuji. _

His gaze traveled over to a certain blonde sleeping on the couch. His eyes flickered upwards to the sprig of mistletoe which had been conveniently placed over his head.

Silver eyes gleamed. The hunter stalked his prey…

…except that really wasn't romantic imagery, so Atobe changed his thoughts. He was merely going to claim his present from the narcileptic.

And perhaps give Jirou his present, as well.

* * *

Everything was perfect. Atobe was sitting next to Jirou on the couch, they were underneath the mistletoe, and no one was paying much attention, in case some calamity occurred (such as Jirou falling asleep in the middle of ore-sama's kiss).

There was only one problem.

"Kabaji."

"Usu."

"Wake Jirou up."

"Usu."

Seconds later, the narcileptic was dangling upside down and turning an alarming shade of red.

Jirou opened his eyes blearily. Being upside down, the first thing he saw was the mistletoe.

The second thing was Kabaji.

"Oh…" He planted a rather noisy, wet kiss on the giant's face as soon as he managed to get right-side up again.

Atobe blinked, gaped, stood utterly at a loss for about three minutes, and then growled.

Jirou stared at him. "…were you about to kiss Kabaji? Sorry. Go right ahead…I think I'll go back to sleep…" He tumbled ungracefully back onto the couch, snoring before he hit the fabric.

The diva trembled with barely suppressed rage. "Kabaji?"

"U…usu?"

"Get away from me."

"Usu."

* * *

Saeki watched Fuji's approach with obvious wariness. "I'm not sure if I really want your gift, Syusuke."

"Hmm. Actually, I need your help."

The white-haired boy raised an eyebrow. "Really? What for?"

His companion's eyes slid in Tezuka's general direction. "I need to get him under the mistletoe somehow. You need to corner him or something, or pull him towards one, and then I'll give a flying tackle and-"

"Syusuke, you're trying too hard," the taller boy remarked, amused. "You could just _ask_ him to take a few steps over, or something."

"…ohhhh." Fuji considered that.

"For example," Saeki continued, "you could merely go up to him and say 'Here's your Christmas present, Tezuka,' and then asked him to take a few steps over so other people wouldn't see what it was."

The tensai looked at him. "That's a wonderful plan, and it'd probably work, but it's just not…I don't know…_fun._ It'd be so much better to land on _top_ of him and then…well, kiss the daylights out of him, you know?"

"Er…" Rokkaku's fukubuchou was starting to become slightly dubious as to his childhood friend's sanity. "Anyways, here's your present." He handed over a small silver bag. "For you and Tezuka to enjoy."

Reaching down into it, Fuji lifted out a pair of amazingly fluffy red-and-green…handcuffs.

A sadistic smile spread over his face.

* * *

Tezuka had been exchanging gifts with Yukimura (all the while watchful of Sanada's cold gaze from across the room). They'd gotten each other relatively normal things – Tezuka accepted the book of classical music gratefully, and the other boy seemed quite pleased with the cds of the Mendelssohn and Bruch concertos – but Tezuka had the nagging feeling that something wasn't right.

That feeling was only amplified when he heard a slight click, and felt a strange weight on his wrist.

His dark eyes traveled slowly downwards to the ridiculous circle around his arm. The gaze flickered over to the other side of the handcuffs, and then slowly up, until he stood staring at his team's prodigy.

"Fuji?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

Fuji sparkled, brightly. "Just testing out Saeki's Christmas present to me."

Yukimura's expression was somewhere between horror and laughter. "Ah…Tezuka-san, I'm going to, er, leave now…"

"Get them off," Tezuka snarled. It wasn't really a snarl, since he kept all emotion out of the words, but his eyes implied that he was mad enough to be snarling.

"Saa, Tezuka, you don't like them?" The tensai smiled innocently, and the sparkling increased by around sixty percent. "Well…" He fumbled in his pocket. His expression turned suddenly horrified. "Kami-sama, I've lost the key!"

Fuji's acting was by no means top-notch, although it _was_ above average. At least, it sounded more plausible than the usual freshman excuses of 'I forgot there was practice' that Tezuka heard every day. Nevertheless, he glared, and was sorely tempted to hang Fuji upside down until the key appeared.

Unfortunately, Tezuka did not have the services of a certain Kabaji Munehiro, and thus had to figure out how to find the key himself.

It didn't help much – at all, actually – that Atobe was leaning over the couch and laughing at them.

"Aniki?" Yuuta asked, obviously wondering why his brother was chained to Seigaku's captain. "Er…what's going on?"

Fuji's smile merely widened. "Ah…I was testing out Koujirou's present, and look what happened! Such a tragedy."

"…is this supposed to be your Christmas present to him or something?" the younger Fuji continued, looking utterly perplexed.

"Right! Tezuka, I haven't given you your present yet." With his free hand, Fuji carelessly pulled something from his pocket.

Tezuka lifted it. His eye twitched. Perhaps he was having muscle spasms.

"A pocket-sized version of the Kama Sutra," he stated.

The tensai looked quite pleased with himself.

"Thank you, Fuji. I doubt I'll have any occasion to use it soon, but thank you nevertheless."

"No occasion? I wouldn't be sure about that…" As soon as Tezuka turned suspiciously towards him, however, Fuji gazed up at the ceiling, the epitome of nonchalance.

_Let's see. If I take three steps over…_

Fuji shifted over three steps, dragging a rather annoyed captain along with him. As soon as he turned – Tezuka now be conveniently positioned under a sprig of green – his eyes gleamed.

Perhaps that was a subtle warning to Tezuka, who backed away.

Fuji's smile slipped slightly. Their strange dance continued for a while, during which Tezuka was tugging at the handcuffs. Unfortunately, he may have been good-looking, talented, and _slender_, but there was no way he was going to get the cuff over his hand.

Atobe was growing bored, however funny it may have been to laugh at Tezuka. He stood, calmly dropping a (1000 dollar) wineglass against the (53731 dollar) crystal table.

The shattering of the wineglass against the surprisingly resistant table silenced the group.

"Ore-sama will now begin the games," he announced, absently kicking away a can of Ponta (everyone had received one, courtesy of Ryoma). His silver eyes gleamed.

The room was so silent one could hear a pin drop. Or, as the case was, one could hear Mizuki's allergy cream dropping to the floor as he surreptitiously started rubbing his face again.

Atobe shone. Literally. The light from the sixteen or so Christmas trees in the room beamed directly at him, or so it seemed.

"We," the diva annouced, "are going to play…reality or provocation."

There was silence again, as the few people with decent vocabularies raised eyebrows and the rest of the room felt generally confused. Taking pity on them, Yukimura explained, "He means 'truth or dare'."

"Ohhh." There was another pause. Ryoma slurped his Ponta. "Couldn't you have said that instead?"

"It sounds so dreadfully common. Ore-sama uses elegance in his statements. Besides, this isn't exactly the normal game." Atobe smirked. "There's one new rule added."

Oshitari's glasses glinted faintly. "And that would be?"

"For the 'dare' part of this game – or, as I call it, the 'provocation' – you _are_ allowed to refuse. However, you'll then have to spend three minutes in ore-sama's massive closet…with one person of my choice."

There was a pause as everyone considered this.

"Now, everyone get out except for Yukimura, Mizuki, Shishido, and Yanagi. I need to talk to those four people. My butler will summon you all back in approximately five minutes."

The five people waited until everyone else had filed out of the room. Atobe leaned back in his chair. "Let's see. Payment, please."

Each of the other four handed over a handful of bills. (Not that Atobe needed them, but no one would _ever_ be allowed to say that Atobe Keigo's services were cheap.)

"Good, good." The diva smirked. "So, let's see. Yukimura, for this money, I'll give you and Sanada around twenty-one minutes in the closet during the course of the game. Mizuki, nine minutes with Fuji Yuuta and three with Fuji Syusuke…? I'm doubting your intelligence, but so be it. Shishido, you've paid for eighteen minutes with Ohtori…I'll throw on another nine in the spirit of Christmas. And Yanagi…" Atobe counted up the bills. His eyes widened. "You want sixteen hours in my closet with Kirihara?"

"My data says that Kirihara will ignore all sexual innuendo for the first fifteen hours while he's getting accustomed to the closet. And I plan to use the last hour to the best of my abilities."

"I…see. Unfortunately, this game is not supposed to last sixteen hours, so…" Atobe handed back the majority of the bills. "I'll give you half an hour with Kirihara in three-minute intervals."

Yanagi, deeming it acceptable, nodded.

"Very well." Atobe motioned to his butler, who showed everyone back into the room. He seated himself on the largest, softest, most expensive armchair. And smiled deviously.

"Kirihara," the diva purred. "Truth or dare?"

Yanagi smiled.

* * *

Wow. My stories are getting more and more idiotic. Yay.

And I keep working on whimsical little drabbles that serve no purpose and probably annoy people.

Oh well.

Yukimura (squee) is so pretty!


	3. The Closet of Doom

Disclaimer: If Tenipuri was mine, would I really be this poor?

Apologies to Risa-chan. I fixed the guest list as soon as I got the review…sorry.

Note: I recently wrote a SanaYuki drabble as a test to see whether I had any idea of their personalities. Please go and criticize it. Thanks.

Under the Mistletoe

Chapter Three – In Which the Closet Becomes a Thing to Be Feared, and Fuji and Tezuka are Still Chained Together

Kirihara looked like a cornered hamster huddling at the bottom of a cage. It was with great reluctance, and only due to Yukimura's gentle prodding, that he muttered 'dare'.

"Good, good." Atobe leaned comfortably back in his chair. He sipped at a new wineglass supplied by one of his maids. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to get drunk before playing this game, but he _was_ Atobe Keigo, after all, and could do whatever he liked.

Silver eyes flickered briefly to Yanagi, who was watching with a rather complacent air. (Either that, or he was asleep; it was hard to tell with the closed eyes and all.)

Kirihara licked his lips, looking even more like a lost rabbit as he tried to act like nothing Atobe said could possibly faze him.

Atobe casually gestured towards one of the maids. "Kirihara…go put on a maid outfit and allow Fuji to take a picture of you."

Fuji's smirk widened fractionally, and Tezuka, stealthily reaching towards Fuji's pocket to see if he could find a certain key, shuddered.

Kirihara gazed thoughtfully at the _very_ frilly maid outfit with the _very_ short skirt. There was silence for a minute before he signed resignedly. He was not going to give anyone the chance to say he was a coward.

Twenty pairs of eyes watched him trudge towards the maid, who was beaming at him. She led him out of the room.

Ten minutes of silence passed.

The door was opened again - the maid having turned a rather amusing shade of pink - as Kirihara was pushed in and the door, his only means of escape, slammed shut.

It was quite possible that Sanada choked. At any rate, he was a bizarre green color for a few seconds while Yukimura sympathetically rubbed his back.

Fuji, tilting his head and smiling innocently, remarked, "Kirihara-kun?"

Kirihara, already in a state of semi-paralysis, blinked owlishly at him.

"Nice legs."

This just about pushed the junior to the breaking point. He was _not_ pleased with how he looked, and he was _not _pleased with the way Yukimura – his own captain – was laughing at him. Furthermore, he was a bit offended at the fukubuchou's gagging, and not at all happy with the way Yanagi had a hand over his mouth. (Whether to prevent himself from laughing or throwing up, no one was quite sure.)

His eyes were slowly turning red. And while he may have made a nice maid – Atobe was considering asking him to keep the outfit permanently and work in the Atobe household – an angry Kirihara was not a thing to be trifled with.

"Wait," Atobe drawled lazily, pointing to Fuji. "You still have to get your picture taken by Fuji."

Fuji, fingering a new digital camera which was his present from Atobe, nodded at Kirihara. "Pose, Kirihara-kun."

The junior, crouching behind a couch, adamantly refused.

The tensai sighed. "Atobe?"

"Yes?"

"Can you make Kabaji…you know…"

Atobe snapped his fingers. "Kabaji."

"Usu." The giant trudged over to the couch and dragged out the shrieking Kirihara, then dumped him in the closest available space.

Needless to say, Sanada was rather shocked when he found Kirihara, dressed in a maid outfit and flailing wildly, deposited in his lap. Both of the victims were petrified for three seconds.

Until, of couse, they heard the 'click', and a bright flash blinded them.

"Awww." Fuji leaned over and showed the picture to a twitching Tezuka. "Isn't that cute?"

Tezuka refused to look at the camera. He was going to excersize his self-restraint, and ignore the picture shoved in front of his face, and override his curiosity. Yes, he could do that. He was absolutely certain of the fact…

He looked at the picture.

The first thought that ran across his mind was 'I pity Sanada'.

The second was 'I pity Kirihara'.

The third, helpfully supplied by his subconscious, was 'Fuji has nicer legs'.

The fourth, coming from the rational part of his mind, was 'Must kill subconscious.'

"Don't worry," Fuji called to the other people all pressing in around them. "I'll make copies for everyone."

Atobe chuckled. "Kirihara, your turn."

The junior, having managed to situate himself as far away from Sanada as possible, glared at just about everyone in the room. "Can I change back now?"

"Oh." The diva glanced at the doorway. "Chieko."

The maid entered, curtsying. "Yes, master Keigo?"

"I believe Kirihara-kun wants his clothes back."

"But…" Atobe winked at her, so quickly that no one noticed. She nodded. "Master Keigo, I'm sorry, but because I didn't want those disgusting, common clothes to contaminate your cottage, I asked Amano-san to burn them."

"Ah." Atobe waved his hand at her, and she drew away. "Well, it seems my butler has burned your 'disgusting, common clothes', so you'll just have to wear that for the rest of the party."

Perhaps a slight smile appeared on Yanagi's face. However, the data specialist's pleasure was counteracted by the mortified expression on Sanada's face as the vice captain desperately tried looking in the opposite direction of the elf.

Kirihara twitched. "Fuji."

"Yes?" the smiling boy asked, still holding his camera.

"Truth or dare."

"Well…dare, of course. Do you really need to ask?"

Kirihara's eyes narrowed. "I dare you to go find the highest cliff in Japan and jump off it."

"Saa, it seems I'll have to refuse." Fuji turned to Atobe. "Well, I'm the first to experience your closet, apparently. Who shall I be paired with?"

Atobe motioned to Mizuki.

Yuuta squeaked, Tezuka blinked, Fuji's eyes opened, Kikumaru muttered something about pitying the St. Rudolph strategist, and Jirou snored.

The last was a bit anticlimatic, but, after all, it was a very loud snore, and worthy of mentioning.

Mizuki's face had basically returned to normal now – the puppy was currently prancing off in the woods somewhere, trying to find its way back to Azerbaijan – and he let off one of his soft cackles that was both irritating and death-insult-provoking.

"Go on. Chieko." Another snap of the fingers. The maid reentered and gently slid open the giant door at the far end of the room, revealing a closet the size of Seigaku's clubhouse.

"Shouldn't I be unchained?" Tezuka asked hopefully.

"No, you can just stand outside the door," Fuji chirped cheerfully, and dragged the protesting captain towards the closet. He entered with Mizuki, and the door slammed shut, a tiny crack showing where the chain of the handcuffs extended.

There was silence for a few minutes, before a violent curse was heard. Seconds later, Fuji's voice purred, "Sorry, Ha-ji-me. I didn't mean to do that. Oh, you're all wet, how dreadful."

There was the sound of something being licked, and everyone watched with amusement as Tezuka's face grew progressively redder.

Then something that sounded like a yell issued from the closet. Fuji's laughter followed. "Why, you're all wet again. That seems to be happening a lot. My, you have wonderful endurance to keep up – I mean, _put up_ with me." There was a short silence before the tensai added, "It really does taste quite good, though. Would you like a lick, Hajime?"

"All right, that's three minutes," Atobe called, visibly shaken. "Tezuka…open the door, if you will…"

Tezuka was in no state to move, let alone open anything.

So once again Chieko was summoned, and she opened the door, then quickly withdrew.

There was silence for a minute before Fuji strolled out, licking a brightly colored lollipop – Jirou's gift to him – and smiling sweetly. A few seconds later, a sopping wet Mizuki left the closet, looking quite pissed, and ready to kill.

Yuuta's eyes flickered from one to the other. "A…aniki? Mizuki-san? Er…?"

"It's really a good thing I helped put up the decorations, Atobe," Fuji remarked. "Otherwise, I'd never have known about that miniature Jacuzzi in the back of your closet. Pity Mituli-san wasn't aware of it; he fell in twice."

"You pushed me!" Mizuki snarled.

"Did I? I forget." Fuji returned to his position on one of the couches, forcing Tezuka to sit beside him. "Tezuka, are you all right? You look a bit, um, startled."

Emotionally scarred would have been more accurate, actually.

"Oh well. My turn." Fuji's eyes landed on those of a certain redhead. "Eiji!"

"Unya?"

"Hi."

Kikumaru nodded. "Hi." He continued watching the tensai warily

"Yuuta!" Fuji called.

His brother squirmed. "Yeah?"

"Yumiko-neesan says 'Merry Christmas', and to keep warm."

"Um…ok…"

The blue eyes scanned the crowd, many of whom were fidgeting. "Hmm…"

"Choose someone already," Atobe growled.

"Right." Fuji turned to the boy sitting next to him. "Tezuka, truth or dare?"

Tezuka shifted. "Dare."

"Move about three feet to your right." Fuji's eyes lingered on the sprig of mistletoe perched on the ceiling.

As luck would have it, the tape used wasn't particularly strong, and the mistletoe fell just before Tezuka moved. Only two people noticed its descent – it'd been a rather small sprig, after all – and Atobe laughed, whereas no one else could understand why Fuji looked so amazingly pissed off.

Tezuka gave the tensai a strange look, inwardly sighing with relief. At least nothing bad had happened to him. "Yukimura-san, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

Not being too used to this game, Tezuka turned to his companion for inspiration. Fuji smiled. "Saa, it seems Tezuka can't come up with anything. Atobe, any suggestions?"

"I'm getting bored of this," the diva replied. (He may have been gorgeous, and relatively intelligent, and talented, but he had the attention span of a goldfish.) "Yukimura, I dare you to spend twenty-one minutes in the closet with Sanada."

Needless to say, Yukimura didn't refuse, and somehow summoned up the strength to drag a protesting vice captain into the closet. There was a bit of splashing, laughter, and an undeniably low, throaty moan that sounded more like Sanada than the other boy.

Atobe raised an elegant eyebrow and gazed thoughtfully at the gold-plated clock perched on the wall. "Ah, look at the time. I believe the cooks have finished dinner by now."

Right on cue, the butler entered. "Master Keigo, the meal is ready."

Two maids held the door open to the next room, which lead to the next, and the next, and the next, so that they were practically given a tour of Atobe's 'cottage' while trying to find the dining room. They discovered it at last – more of a banquet hall than anything else – and blinked for a while at the long table in the center of the hall.

"It can seat a hundred people," Atobe remarked, rather smugly. "For now, however, just sit at the far end. Oh…and don't forget to save seats for Sanada and Yukimura. It's quite possible they'll show up in a few hours."

Everyone filtered in on either side of the table. Naturally, Atobe seated himself at the head of the table, which coincidentally rested on a small dais so that he was literally looking down on everyone.

A new group of maids carried in serving dishes, a few of them looking slightly revolted. The reaason was soon disclosed as Ryoma, poking through his salad, shoved his chair away from the table with a singularly uncharacteristic shriek. "There's something moving in my salad!"

"Ah, yes." The diva smiled, while calmly eating from one of the two normal salads in the room. (The other was in front of a smiling tensai, who had bribed Atobe to escape from this torture. Actually, Fuji had been the one to suggest the game in the first place.)

Atobe gestured to Fuji. "Would you like to explain the game?"

"Sure." Fuji stood, facing the rest of the group (who'd all huddled in a corner, away from their infested meals.) "I'm fairly certain that Echizen will understand this. At any rate, this is a variation off the American game 'Fear Factor', and, for the first round, the challenge is to consume your salads. The winner of all six rounds will receive five million yen."

Five million yen? The number was as bright in their minds as the ringing of silver trumpets, and the sound of people crying out 'the Stewards of Gondor have returned!'

…except that was the wrong image for the Tenipuri cast to have. At any rate, everyone was quite optimistic, until they heard a choking noise behind them.

Looking at Ryoma's bright green face, they suddenly weren't sure whether they wanted to play anymore.

* * *

Um…sorry for that bit of LOTR in there. Couldn't resist.

My brother drew me a beautiful pic of Atobe. (I asked for AtoTezu, but his answer was, quite firmly, 'NO!')

Anyways, because I am bored and have no life, I will continue writing drabbles. And, hopefully, by Christmas, I'll have written enough drabbles to satisfy every reviewer out there. XD


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